Shimon Peres’s prophetic legacy
While serving in the Israeli cabinet and especially in the final years of his presidency, while the international community sat transfixed by the spinning centrifuges in Natanz, Shimon Peres turned the world’s gaze elsewhere. While diplomats were busy counting grams of enriched uranium, Peres — with his characteristic blend of visionary optimism and cold-eyed realism — issued a strategic warning that remains hauntingly relevant today. He understood a fundamental truth: while nuclear knowledge is nearly impossible to erase, the physical means of delivery can, and must, be dismantled.
For Peres, Iran’s ballistic missile program was never a secondary issue; it was the “smoking gun” of the regime’s true intentions. In closed-door meetings and public forums alike, he posed a simple, piercing question: “If the leaders of Iran claim that for religious reasons they will not hold a nuclear bomb, why do they need missiles with ranges of thousands of kilometers? Whom do they intend to attack?”
This philosophy, which became the backbone of his international advocacy, reached its peak in his historic 2013 address to the European Parliament. Speaking to a continent often eager to accept Tehran’s peaceful overtures, Peres made it clear that monitoring uranium enrichment was only half the battle.
He declared: “I believe that in addition to the supervision of the production of enriched uranium, there is a need to supervise the means of delivery, and to supervise the production of missiles capable of carrying nuclear warheads.”
Peres recognized what many in the West preferred to ignore: a bomb without a missile is a theoretical threat, but a long-range ballistic missile without a nuclear payload is an economic absurdity. To him, Iran’s massive investment in these delivery systems was the ultimate proof that their goal was not civilian energy, but global intimidation. He argued that dismantling the ballistic capability was often more critical than monitoring the nuclear science itself, as the missiles are what transform Iran from a regional nuisance into a global menace.
He didn’t just warn Israel; he “translated” the threat for the world. When presenting foreign leaders with maps of the range of Shahab and Sejjil missiles, he turned a Middle Eastern problem into a problem for Paris, London, and Rome. He called for a global defense shield, not as an act of war, but as an act of prevention.
Today, as Iranian-made missiles are launched across the region and threaten international shipping lanes, Peres’s foresight feels more like a blueprint than a memory. He taught us not to be blinded by technical debates over enrichment percentages, but to look at the broader picture: the distance between Tehran and the world’s capitals, and the missiles built to bridge it. His legacy on this front is clear—the missile is not just a weapon; it is a declaration of intent. And dismantling that intent is the only path to true security.